You're Not Gonna Believe This, But The Current Season Of Entourage Is Great

The allegiance we pay to certain television shows can be inexplicable. Think of all those years with "Lost," praying for transcendent answers. Or the seven seasons some folks spent on "The X-Files" only to wind up with The Robert Patrick Era. Or consider, much more recently, the ongoing woes of those "Rubicon" devotees—so loyal, so unaware of the inevitable disappointment.

And then there are those of us who have stuck it out with HBO’s "Entourage," that child of perpetually stunted growth. Somehow a show with no stakes, no arc, and no likable characters has survived—first through the zeitgeist, then through growing pains, and ultimately into malaise. By the start of this season, its seventh, you almost had to explain to people why you were still watching. "I know it sucks, but I’m already in." "Whatever, Jeremy Piven is great." "The chicks are hot." Add to that the rise of a timeslot competitor, "Mad Men," and "Entourage" became a classic DVR zombie. Episodes piled up unwatched as Jon Hamm reigned over Sunday evenings with an iron tumbler.

Early in the season, hope quickly dimmed that things would improve. Stubbornly non-evolving characters continued not to evolve. Ari Gold began wrangling a new NFL team to Los Angeles and clashed with an employee, Lizzie Grant. Johnny Drama struggled with his celebrity as he searched for his own network show. Turtle attempted to branch out, as his car service (a car service?) failed to launch. Eric planned (wait, what show is this again?) a wedding(!). Scott Caan joined the cast, and... does this sentence really need finishing? Director Nick Cassavetes bullied Vince, non-confrontational and milquetoast as ever, into a stunt on the set of his new movie. Same ole, same ole. Here was the climax of one early season-7 episode: Vince cut his hair. OMG VINCE CUT HIS HAIR. It was as if series creator Doug Ellin was shouting through the television, "Thanks for your loyalty, now cut the check!" That was the nadir.

This season, Vinny Chase is partying all the time and experimenting with cocaine. He’s showing up to meetings with directors, with Grey on his arm, high as a blimp. (The Stan Lee cameo this season was priceless.) His antics jeopardize his role in a new blockbuster comic book flick, Airwalker. When Grey tells Vinny she’s going to take a role in an upcoming gangbang movie, he freaks, growing uncharacteristically jealous and squirrely. He barks at his best bud and manager, Eric, who then starts barking at everyone else, and—wait, what’s going on here? What show is this again? Are those consequences? Are things actually getting kinda ... dark?

Introducing drugs and a tempting woman to spark tension is about the least inventive trick in the dramaturgical book. But for years, "Entourage" has stubbornly resisted even having a book. And for the last three weeks, including Sunday night’s stormy penultimate episode of the season, "Entourage" has ended on genuine notes of tumult. In a way, the unfurling, gallon-sized bag of coke was a symbol for a rejuvenated show—or maybe just that had finally been jolted for first time. Naturally, it took six episodes to get cranking and there’s only one left. It will not return until summer 2011. And that will only be a shortened season, just six more installments. And then, maybe a film. Two months ago the idea of "Entourage: The Movie" was about as promising as Jerry Ferrara’s post-HBO career. Now? Bring the drama.

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